


Secretarial Skills

by waywardgirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Forced Orgasm, More tags later, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Rape/Non-con Elements, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-08-29 09:41:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 18,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8484502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waywardgirl/pseuds/waywardgirl
Summary: HIRING: secretary. Unconventional work. Must have open mind. If considering, pray about it, someone will be with you shortly.
Or, Team Free Will places an ad in the paper, and the only one to respond is an oddly secretive girl.





	1. The Ad

  
She wore her long hair draped around her like a scarf. The coffee shop was cold, and the flannel shirt she had stolen from last nights tryst did little to warm her. Well, stolen was a little strong, she didn't see anything wrong with taking a memento. Especially after such good sex.

She had never really liked car sex, but the guy last night was worth it. Eyes green like a beer bottle and freckles peppered across his face. He had been rough, just the way she liked, all pulling and pushing and biting until he collapsed on top of her. When she was sure he had passed out, she wiggled out from under his large frame, took his shirt and made a break for it.

The newspaper in front of her was stained with coffee and worn at the edges, like it was a week or two old. Perusing it while she took the last few sips of her coffee, she noticed the odd ad. 

HIRING: secretary. Unconventional work. Must have open mind. If considering, pray about it, someone will be with you shortly.

A smile crept across her face. "Pray about it"? It was just so absurd. Still, she couldn't find a job to save her life, had no parents to move back in with, and her brother...well, she could hardly look at him.

So when she happened upon this ridiculous, probably fake ad, she just couldn't help herself. She gulped down the dregs of her coffee, and after a surreptitious look around the place darted to the bathroom.

After locking the door, checking under the stall doors for feet, and telling herself just how ridiculous this all was a few more times, she got down on her knees and placed her palms together.

" _Umm..whoever wrote the 'unconventional secretary' ad in the newspaper? This is so stupid. Okay, um, I have an open mind, even if I don't think anyone can hear me, and_ ,"

Before she got any further, she heard the unmistakable whoosh of feathers, and a low gravelly voice said, "I can hear you."

She would have screamed, if it weren't for the fear like liquid nitrogen running through her veins, paralyzing her. When her neck began to thaw she numbly raised her head, only to come face to crotch with someone standing uncomfortably close.

"You can stand. I won't hurt you."  
Shakily, she obeyed. He seemed powerful in an otherworldly, ethereal way, despite his rumpled trench coat and backwards tie. His unnervingly blue eyes looked right through her, like he was staring at her soul.

"Who...how...what..?" Her mind was going too fast to land on which question to ask first.

"My name is Castiel."

"I don't think that's a name." _What_? She couldn't believe she just said that to some magical appearing-out-of-thin-air-person... _what_?

"I can assure you that it is."

"Whatever you say."

He smiled strangely. "I think you're going to work out perfectly."

"I--what? No, I don't think I want...this is too..." she couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence, considering that she was on the verge of homelessness, and had as recently as yesterday been considering stripping. She didn't think her ass was big enough.

"I thought you had an open mind?"  
She thought he was toying with her, when really, he just didn't know any better.

"I do, I just, um, how did you get here?"

"Wings."

She stifled a nervous laugh. "And why do you have wings, are you half bird?"

His smirk was gone. "No, I'm an angel of the Lord. And you're coming with me." He grabbed her arm, and they were gone.


	2. Away We Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> say hi, boys

In an instant they were somewhere else. Gone was the slightly dingy coffee shop bathroom, instead she found herself in what appeared to be a library. Old books were neatly filed away on grand shelves, and two long tables stood almost touching each other down the center of the room. At the end of one table sat a man with long floppy brown hair, a laptop in front of him but his head buried in a book. His voice was low when he said, "Cas, can't you use the front door? We made you a key..." Castiel, which apparently was his real name, forced a cough, and the long-haired man looked up. She wasn't sure if she had seen anyone so good looking before.

He looked between Castiel and her slowly, then said, "Cas, a word, please? In the kitchen?" He paused, turned to her and smiled politely. "Excuse us a moment." When he stood, she realized how tall he was--massive, actually--surprised that he towered over even her.

Castiel pulled one of the wooden chairs out for her and instructed her to sit, assuring her they'd be right back. But she could hear them arguing from the kitchen.

"Cas, what the hell is this? You can't just bring people here. And, a girl? Do you even do that?" He sounded amused.

"Sam," _so_ , she thought, _his name is Sam_ , "she responded to your ad."

"Oh." There was a minute of silence. She contemplated leaving, but she was so curious about what the hell was happening she couldn't do it. For the moment at least, her curiosity outweighed her fear. "Well what's her name? Do you know anything about her?"

"No."

Another pause. "You know nothing about her. You're an angel! Isn't that weird?"

"Well...yes, I suppose."

"And you didn't think to ask her anything before you brought her here?"

"Well...no."

She heard an exasperated sigh. "I'm going to go talk to her. Go get Dean." Another whoosh, and Sam was stalking back into the library. He settled into the chair next to her, gave her a small smile, then said, "I'm Sam."

"I gathered." She grinned, noticing how uncomfortable he seemed at not being in control.

"And, you are?"

"Curious."

Now it was his turn to smile. A very mean one at that. "I should let you know we have a dungeon here. If you refuse to tell me something as simple as your name, I'll just turn you over to my brother and he can have his way with you."

"I'd rather you have your way with me." Sam couldn't deny he was attracted to her. She was tall and thin, with long light hair and light eyes, and skin so pale she almost glowed.

The implicit threat of the dungeon scared her though. Flirting was her usual go-to for getting out of things, so she figured this time it'd be no different. But she had no idea who she was dealing with. What kind of person even has a dungeon?

Feigning confidence, she leaned back in her chair. "So, are you going to tell me about this job?"

"Right." Sam had completely forgotten why she was actually here. "Basically, we need someone to function in a multi-faceted role. Some secretarial work, maybe some light housekeeping, and some odd jobs."

"And what was with the whole 'open mind' thing?"

"Ah, yes, well if you take the job, then we can discuss the details," he said, a sly smile playing at his lips.

She was intensely curious. She probably should have been more afraid. "How much is the pay?"

Sam looked uncomfortable. "We can pay you...a little. But we can provide you with a room here."

"In a library."

"It's much more than a library," he said, laughing.

Footsteps and a voice echoed into the large room from...somewhere. "Hey Sammy, Cas said someone responded to the ad? Do they cook?" Sam looked at her hopefully, but she was too lost in thought to notice. Did that voice sound kind of familiar? She knew she knew it, but it was just out of reach, under a layer of--

"Kelly?" No more echoes, the voice and the man it belonged to had made it to the library. She turned around, and, _shit_ , those eyes. "What are you doing here?" _Shit, shit, shit_. "Is that my shirt?"


	3. Questionable Introductions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> allow me to reintroduce myself, my name is

"I..." she faltered. She never intended on seeing this guy again. "I think I'll pass on the mysterious job, thanks, how do I get out of here?" Her nerves were sky-high as she moved to stand from the chair, but then--

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" Those green eyes. So angry. What was his name again? "Give me my shirt back."

She turned towards Sam, but he had averted his gaze. "I don't...I don't have anything else warm to wear." Sam's eyes were sad as they darted up to meet hers, but the green ones were unflinching.

"You stole my shirt."

Sam turned in his chair, grinning. "Oh, so that's where you were last night? I seem to recall you saying--"

"Shut up Sam, this bitch stole my shirt!"

Well, that hurt. "I'm not a bitch, we fucked in your car and I didn't want to sleep gasping for air crushed underneath your gigantic body all night. So I bailed. I..." _Whoosh_. Great, now Castiel was back. They all stared at her as she continued, "I'm pretty sure when people fuck each other half-drunk in a car they have, like, zero expectations. What, did you want me to stay and cuddle?"

He looked almost hurt, but spat back, "Cuddle? No. Just give me back my shirt Kelly, and Cas here can zap you out of here."

"That's not her name." The words flew out of Castiel's mouth almost automatically. He frowned and the boys turned to look at him, while she turned away and slumped down in the chair, pulling the cuffs of the stolen flannel over her fingers.

"What?" Green eyes asked, incredulous. Jesus, what was his name?

"Cas, how do you know?" Sam asked warily.

The angel looked at her uncertainly, then said, "I'm not sure. I haven't been able to ascertain any information on her. I do know, however, that her name isn't Kelly."

"Kelsey?" Green eyes asked cautiously, like he maybe misremembered it.

"No."

"Cassie?"

"No."

They all turned to face her. "What is your name?" The angel said, his low tone threatening.

"It's Zoey." It was not.

"No, it isn't," Castiel said, almost irritated that he couldn't glean the slightest bit of information off of her.

"Look, I'll give you your shirt, but I'd just...I'd like to leave now. Please." She did not want to be around these people any longer. Why did she have to get on her knees in that bathroom? "If you'd have said any of this before you magicked me away to this...place, I never would have come here."

Green eyes groaned. "Cas, you're supposed to interview them _before_ you bring them here! This place is...off the map."

"My apologies. Next time, I will do better."

There was a silence as green eyes considered his next move. "There is no next time. She's the girl. She's hired. She'll tell us her name, one way or another. But she isn't leaving." He was absolute when he said it, glaring at not-Kelly not-Kelsey, and she shuddered when she remembered the dungeon Sam had mentioned. "Sam. Show her to one of the rooms--"

"Dean--" _That was his name!_

"Sam, if you don't want me to keep her tied up in the dungeon, get her a room," he hissed, grabbing a jacket. "Find out where she lives. Cas can zap in and grab her stuff. She isn't leaving. At least, not until she tells us her name." He smiled wickedly at her, pausing before he left the room to add, "I hope the shirt was worth it. I'm going on a beer run. Later."

She looked at Sam, then Castiel, back between them again and again and again, her eyes wide with fear. "Please," she whispered, "you can't just...take me." She turned to the angel. "You're an angel! Please. Please, please, please," she repeated softly, rocking back and forth in the chair, remembering how rough Dean had been last night. She was too afraid to even imagine what he could do if his intention was to inflict pain, not pleasure.

The remaining men exchanged a glance. Dean was generally the leader if push came to shove, though obviously he wasn't thinking clearly when it came to the mystery girl. But she knew what they looked like, and they didn't know anything about her...they couldn't exactly let her back out on the streets.

Sam sighed, standing up and said, "Come on, you can have a room. I guess you can start tomorrow."

"I don't want the job!" She leapt to her feet, and Castiel tilted his head at her curiously, thinking that he almost saw a flicker of a glow in her eyes. But that was impossible. If she was anything but human, he'd be able to sense it. He shook his head, trying to clear the unhelpful thoughts.

"Take it up with my brother." Sam grabbed her arm. "Cas...ward her door, I guess. It seems Dean has a bug up his ass about her, so we can't let her go."

She unsuccessfully tried to wrench her arm from his large hand. "I don't believe Dean has anything living inside of his ass," Castiel said seriously, carefully watching Sam try to coax the girl down the hall.

Sam groaned. "No, it's...Cas, it's an expression."

"Oh. My apologies." He watched as Sam dragged the frightened girl down the winding hallways, trailing behind them. When Sam pushed a door open and practically tossed her in, they both saw the fear in her eyes.

"Please, don't. I don't have money, but I'm sure this is just a misunderstanding or something...please, please," she cried, staring at the angel. Weren't they supposed to be the good guys?

"Tell us your name," Sam said simply.

She bit her lip. "Alexis," she tried nervously.

"No," Castiel said, growing bored at her guessing game.

"Then when you're ready to talk, call for us. Until then...Cas, can you knock her out?" Castiel cocked his head, questioning. "Look at her, she's too nervous to ever fall asleep. Just do the thing."

Castiel stepped into the room, and she scrambled into the furthest corner of the bed, trying to get away from him. "No! Don't hurt me!" she shrieked, and before she could say anything else, Castiel placed two fingers to her forehead and she was out.

"Lets ward her room so she can't escape. The last thing we need is for Dean to lose his shit because we let some chick he banged get loose."

Castiel nodded, neglecting to add that when he touched her bare skin he felt a spark of electricity unlike anything else he had ever felt. And judging by the slight widening of her eyes before she fell into a forced, dreamless sleep, she had felt it too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> soo the next chapter (or one after that?), Dean becomes determined to find out her name, one way or another. I have two options for how he goes about this...torture, or well, not rape but some non con sexual elements. If anyone has a preference for which they'd like to read, hollaaa


	4. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas and Sam strategize, sort of. Not-Kelly has a...dream

Sam sat anxiously in the library, trying to get an increasingly odd Castiel to pay attention. And Castiel was usually odd.

"Cas, come on, focus. Do you think maybe touching her soul might help?" Sam took a swig of his beer.

"Perhaps. I do not enjoy subjecting people to that amount of pain, though." Castiel was pacing, trying to figure out what the spark had meant. He had never felt anything like that before.

"Maybe Dean will have some ideas," Sam suggested. Castiel gave a half-hearted smile, continuing his pacing. "He did sleep with her, after all."

"Yes, Dean does have a penchant for, I believe you call them, one night stands. Although I don't believe his having slept with her has won us any of her confidence."

"I guess not." Sam drummed his fingers on the table, drawing a blank on why a random girl would be so weird over something as simple as her _name_. "Do you think Heaven has any ideas?"

Castiel stopped his pacing. "Sam," he said seriously, "I am not exactly one of Heaven's fans."

"I know, but--"

"I'm sure we will figure out another way."

"Yeah, okay." Sam finished off his beer and rose from the table, listening for the door. "Dean's been gone a while."

"I suppose he's at a bar."

"Alright man. I'm gonna, uh, go to sleep. See you in the morning."

"Actually, Sam, I understand you are going grocery shopping in the morning?"

"Um...yeah. Why?"

A weird half-grin slowly broke out across Castiel's face. "I would very much like to join you." For some reason, Castiel found himself wanting to see the girl who had sent sparks through his whole body smile at him.

"Sure, alright. I thought you found food 'unsettling' though? Molecules and all that."

Castiel's smile briefly twisted into a grimace. Food _was_ unsettling. "Yes, but I was thinking we could get coffee from the coffee shop I found um...not-Kelly at." He frowned. "Maybe we should call her something else."

"The coffee is a good idea, Cas. And let's talk about her name tomorrow, I'm pretty tired."

"Alright. Goodnight, Sam."

"Yeah, 'night Cas."

Sam slumped off towards his room, trying not to think about the unwilling girl trapped in the room down the hall from his.

 

* * *

 

_The wind whipped her hair around her face. Her hands tangled in the metal chains on each side of her body, delighting in each firm touch of her brother's large hands on her small back at semi-regular intervals. She was giggling uncontrollably, kicking her legs beneath her bubblegum pink dress to try and gain more height._

_She distantly heard Antony say, "Okay, on this next one, jump sweetie. Are you ready?"_

_She only laughed louder and nodded her head, and after feeling her brother push her one more time she hesitated a brief moment before she released the chains and pushed her small body from the swing. She stumbled a bit before turning to face Antony, flinging her arms above her head and proudly announcing, "Ta-da!"_

_Antony smiled at her softly. "That was a great one, love."_

_She ran over to him as fast as her small legs would carry her before hugging his leg with all her might. "I love you, Anty," she declared. She may have only been five, but she loved her brother as much as she could._

_"And I you, Mikey."_

_Her breathing ceased when she heard it. She slowly raised her head, only to be met by a horrified expression spread across her brother's usually placid face. "I'm not a boy!" she yelled._

_"No, of course you aren't honey--"_

_"Am I going to turn into a boy?" she asked tearfully, her voice growing steadily louder. Her brother glanced around the empty playground in panic._

_"No, no, you aren't," he said, trying to make his voice as soothing as he could._

_"Then why did you call me Mikey? That's a boys' name!" Her tiny voice was wracked with sobs, and his heart was breaking for her._

_"You know what? Let's go see mom. She can clear all this up."_

_She knew it must have taken a while, but in an instant she was crying in front of her mother, half listening to her brother explain in hushed tones what had happened. Her mother picked her up and held her in her lap, cooing soft words like, "hush," and "it will be okay," while she rocked the small child in her arms._

_After a while, her sobs subsided, and she was able to look her mother in the face. "Mommy? Am I turning into a boy?"_

_"No, honey, don't be ridiculous. My beautiful daughter, no. Antony merely made a mistake."_

_"What mistake?"_

_"Your name, sweetie, your real name must be kept secret."_

_"Secret," she repeated slowly._

_"Yes, just for you, me, and your brother. Now, I will tell you your real name, but you must make me a promise. You can never tell anyone. You may call yourself whatever you like, but you can never tell anyone your real name." She slowly nodded her head. "You have to say it, sweetie."_

_"I promise, mama. I promise." Her mother bent her head down and whispered into her ear. "But I like that name."_

_"I know, it's a beautiful name. Maybe one day you can use it. But not now."_

The moment slipped away into multicolored wisps, fading into her subconscious. That day that laid out her entire future little more than a nightmare now.

_You can never tell anyone, you can never tell anyone, you can never tell anyone_

 

_* * *_

 

Dean snuck in sometime around midnight, a little drunk and a lot happy with the plan he was formulating. Sam was already asleep, and he figured Castiel was off in the room he had claimed for himself watching Netflix. Dean held the plain brown paper bag close to his side just in case he was out in the library instead. While Dean was quite proud of the ingenious of his plan, he was pretty sure neither his brother nor the angel would agree with his plans for getting their new guest to talk.

Oh, she was going to talk alright. Dean was going to make _damn_ sure of that. By the time he was through with her, she would be spilling every last thing she never wanted to tell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter but I've rewritten it about five times so...enjoy!
> 
> And also, happy thanksgiving :)


	5. Sweet Sensation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not-Kelly has a frustrating morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This features some torture (kind of) and some non con sexual elements. If that makes you uncomfortable, feel free to skip
> 
> I also updated the tags

Dean woke up to pounding on his door and a slight headache.

"What?" he snapped, burrowed under his blankets.

"Can I come in?"

Ugh, Sam. Dean poked the very top of his head out of his warm cocoon to yell, "What time is it?"

"Like, 9:15." He paused a beat, and without an answer announced, "I'm coming in," and pushed Dean's door in unceremoniously.

Dean glared up at Sam's overgrown form taking up too much of the doorframe. "What do you want," he said flatly.

"Me and Cas are going to the store. Do you want anything?"

"No." Dean hesitated a second to reconsider. "Pie."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Anything else?"

Dean pulled the blanket back over his head and groaned in response. "Are you still here?"

"Okay, I'm leaving. We might get breakfast too. Or I will, Cas will just, you know...sit there."

"I got it! You can leave now."

"Yeah, bye," Sam said, shutting the door with more force than necessary.

Dean laid huddled under the blankets, listening for Sam and Castiel's footsteps. Then the door opening. Shutting. He counted to one, two, three, thirty, before daring to pull the blanket down and allowing schoolgirl-like giddiness to fill his limbs. He had a full day planned for not-Kelly, and he was going to enjoy every second of it.

* * *

She awoke with a start. Her body was stretched out across a metal table, naked, the room was dark, and in that moment she had never regretted anything as much as getting on her knees in that bathroom. Not even previous instances involving her on her knees in bathrooms.

"Good morning, Kelly. Oh wait," Dean's voice was low and close. She flinched away. "Nope, you're not going anywhere. Today, we're going to find out your name."

"Why am I naked?"

"We'll get to that," he said coolly.

Dean fingered the relatively dull blade in his hands. It was scary looking, sure, but he'd have to press pretty hard to draw blood. But that wasn't his aim. Not yet.

The blade was ice cold against her throat, and it felt even colder compared to the quickly developing rope burns on her wrists and ankles. She flinched away, eliciting a low laugh from Dean. "Tell me what you know." The blade pressed harder into her throat. She had always been scrappy, but she knew she couldn't punch her way out of a fight with Dean. If she could even get loose.

"Please," her voice barely more than a whisper, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Tell me your name. Your _real_ name."

She closed her eyes and shook her head. She knew she couldn't. Her dream from the night before swarmed behind her closed eyes, taunting her, _you can never tell you can never tell_.

The blade pressed harder into her collar bone and she tried to wince away, but she was tied too tightly. "It's whatever you want it to be."

He laughed, amused, then said, "What, are you a hooker now?"

"I can't tell you my real name."

"Then you're in for a long day, honey."

_You can never tell_

His blade pressed a long path down from her collar bone to her hip, not hard enough to draw blood. Just hard enough to leave a faint pink line in its' wake. She kept her mouth clamped shut.

_Promise me_

"Tell me your name."

_I promise, mama_

"Why does it matter!" she practically screamed, and he pressed the blade harder into her skin, taking a slice for her noncompliance. Her skin was so pretty; pale and soft, unblemished. She looked good with the red running down her thigh.

_No one can ever know_

"Tell me," he hissed. She pulled fruitlessly at her bindings, helpless.

_No one_

He pulled up a stool next to wear she was stretched out on the table, a cart she couldn't see but was sure was filled with terrible things next to him. Dean placed the blade he had been using on it and picked up a smaller, razor sharp one.

He placed a hand on her sternum, pressing her into the table. "Keep still. This might hurt." And with that, he set to work at some intricate carving on her ribs. She tried, and failed, to pull away from him, struggling under the weight of his hand. White hot electric pain ran through her, for how long she didn't know. Minutes, hours, days. And then he started talking.

"You know, witchcraft, sigils, magic...there are just so many things you can do," he said, not missing a beat in his carving. She breathed in and out in shallow little breaths, listening. "Or enhance. Or aid. In fact, in the library, we have whole books just on sex magic."

Her blood ran cold at that. "What?" she asked meekly.

"Yeah. You see, I don't really want to hurt you." He pulled back the blade and leaned back a little, still keeping her pressed into the table with his other hand. Admiring his handiwork. "Now, what I just carved into your ribs there," he said, setting the blade down and stand up, "comes from one of those books. Care to guess what it does?"

"Not really."

"It prevents you from achieving orgasm." She shrugged as much as she could, given the way her limbs were currently tied. Dean smiled at her and continued, "I thought that might be your reaction at first." He picked something up off the cart and held it out of her line of sight. "But after, I don't know, a half hour? Of being right on the brink, you'll be begging me to slice through that sigil so you can come."

"I won't," she said, attempting defiant but sounding more whiny.

He held up what was in his hand. "I think you will." It was a vibrator, one of those intense motherfuckers you have to plug into a wall. While Dean went off, presumably to find an outlet, she tried to talk herself down.

_You know you can't tell him. Okay, so you can't come, so what? How hard could that be?_

Her thoughts were interrupted by a violent buzzing noise cutting through the air. Dean reappeared beside her, grinning like a mad scientist, the source of the buzzing in his hand.

"Last chance to tell me before we begin," he said. She was silent. He pulled the stool over and said, "Good. I've always wanted to do this."

And with that, he pressed the oversized head of the monstrosity up against her. The vibrations hit her like a car crash, echoing throughout her body and sending waves of heat back in turn. She tried to pull of the ropes above her, but Dean just pressed harder into her, making her yelp. And that made him _laugh_.

"Having trouble there, sweetheart?"

No. Yes. She bit back a moan and shook her head. He just grinned. She was starting to sweat, her whole body glistening in the cool dungeon air. She could practically feel her pulse in her pussy.

"Anything you want to say to me?"

"No," she tried to say, but in came more like, "nnnnggggfff." He laughed again, and tweaked one her nipples with his unoccupied hand. As if she wasn't already having enough problems with pleasure overload.

That's when it hit her. She needed it, needed it now. A wanton, needy noise found its' way past her lips but she didn't care, she was too focused on what she knew was coming. Dean was laughing, and she still didn't care. She could taste it, taste it, taste it--

Wait.

Dean's laughing rang in her ears as she fought to remember through the haze of pleasure. And, oh shit. _You_ _can't_ _achieve_ _orgasm_ , he had said, or something like that. She started pulling on the restraints in earnest now, frustration bubbling over.

She screamed, let it fall into a moan, then a whisper, a fucked up piano scale, then said, "How long has it been?"

"Ten minutes," Dean informed her smugly.

* * *

She lasted for thirty six more minutes before Dean got bored of her writhing. Of her sobbing. But she hadn't broken yet.

"Fine!" he said, grabbing a roll of duct tape off the cart. "Fine. I guess I'll have to change tactics." Even though he was pretty sure she hadn't heard him, or at least absorbed what he said, he set to work on taping the vibrator to her snugly, so he wouldn't have to hold it. He was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to hold on for this next part.

Dean stared at her a long minute, then switched off the vibrator. He grabbed her jaw so he could stare right into her eyes and said, "Last chance. Name?"

She shook her head as much as his firm grasp allowed. Dean picked up the small, sharp blade and cut through a small part of the sigil on her ribs. "Fine. You brought this on yourself." He flicked the vibrator on high, and she finally went over the edge to drown in a sea of sensations.


	6. Say My Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> slim shady
> 
> or
> 
> mystery girl gives up her name

Castiel was very focused on his job of not spilling the coffee. He gripped the tray tight in one hand, while absentmindedly rubbing the fingers of his other hand together, remembering the way his fingertips sparked when they touched the mystery girl. It had felt like fireworks, like technicolor lightning bolts; like nothing he had ever experienced in his many millennia of existence. He so desperately wanted to feel it again.

"Hey, Sam?"

"Yeah?" Sam, meanwhile, was attempting to carry all of the groceries by himself. Castiel insisted the coffee was too important to be a secondary task.

"How should I present the coffee to our mystery guest?"

"Just give it to her," Sam said. "Can you get your key? I don't have a hand."

"I don't have it."

"Where is it?"

"In the bunker."

Sam rolled his eyes and maneuvered the bags so they rested precariously between one cradled arm, his hip, and the wall beside the door. After throwing an exasperated glare at Castiel (who was too busy with the coffee to notice), he dug around in his pockets with his free hand until he found the unwieldy bunker key.

"Can you unlock it?"

"I'm carrying the coffee."

Sam unlocked the door, and that's when the screams hit them. Castiel flicked his wrist, sending the coffee and the groceries to land unharmed on the library table, while Sam slammed the door behind them.

Before Sam could register that the screams were distinctly female, and not exactly from pain, he leapt down the stairs. "DEAN!" he screamed, and with a panicked look back at Castiel yelled, "find him!"

Sam pulled his gun out and took off running in the direction of the screams, while Castiel took off with a _whoosh_ behind him. His heart pounded loudly in his chest, the screams growing louder as he approached the dungeon. He paused by the door, steadying himself for what he might find inside.

Sam turned into the doorway and promptly collided with a very scarlet faced Dean, who was being ushered out by an equally scarlet faced Castiel.

"What...?" was all Sam managed to get out before Dean cut him off.

"Get your hands off me, Cas! What the hell?"

"You shouldn't..." Castiel paused, almost confused. "You shouldn't be doing that to that poor girl. She's here to help us."

"She _knows_ something! Why don't you know who she is? Or anything about her? You're an angel! She won't even tell us her name!" Dean shot back angrily.

"I'LL TELL YOU!" she screamed, and the boys heads all swerved toward the dungeon at once, as if they were all attached to the same body.

When Sam entered the room, he realized just why Castiel was so confused, and why his brother was so embarrassed. The tall potential-secretary was tied to a table, each limb relegated to a table leg. She was naked, panting, glistening with sweat, and something was duct taped between her legs and vibrating forcefully. There was a gash on one of her thighs, and a whole mess carved in to one side of her ribs. Her whole body was trembling, she couldn't handle so much sensation in such a sensitive spot for so long. Her vision had grown blurry and she was past begging to be untied--she couldn't even remember what Dean wanted until she heard the boys in the hall. He had just been staring at her the whole time, occasionally rising from his chair to tweak her nipple or run a blade lightly across her skin. Sam wanted to stare, but he turned away, trying to hide how immensely turned on he was.

"How did you even think of this?" he hissed at his brother, incredulous.

"Porn," Dean said proudly. "Torture doesn't always work. And I figured it wouldn't work on a girl so secretive about something as simple as her own name. So...I started thinking. Girls can't take consecutive orgasms after, like, five. Oversensitivity or something."

"Jesus, Dean. Turn that thing off!"

Dean reached between her legs, and she feebly tried to flinch away, whimpering. "Relax, sweetheart," he said, patting her leg, and turned it off.

She let out a sigh of relief, her breathing jagged, like she had ran a marathon. "Mika," she said, turning her head to look at them. "My name is Mika." Castiel tilted his head. What an odd name for a human. _Yet vaguely familiar_ , he thought.

"Well, my job here is done," Dean said breezily, "I'll be in my room." He winked at Mika and strode out.

"Well I guess I'll just clean up your mess then!" Sam yelled after him.

"Whatever!"

Sam turned toward Mika, pulling a knife out of his pocket. She tried to shrink away but there was nowhere to go. "I'm not going to hurt you." The blade was cool against her fevery-hot skin, and easily sliced through the rope holding her in place. Sam resisted the urge to run his fingers along her sweaty body...maybe later, he thought, she's been through enough for now.

When all the rope and duct tape was cut through she sprang off the table and stood in some sort of fighting pose on the side opposite Sam and Castiel. "I want to leave. You are all crazy." She turned her bleary eyes to the angel. "You. Please, take me back. It's not worth it. I'd rather be a stripper."

"You're naked. You can barely stand," Sam said, and as the words left his mouth she realized just how weak her legs felt. She staggered, grabbing onto the table for support.

"I would very much like a shower," she said, wearily glaring between them.

"Sure, Cas will ah, um, Cas...?" Sam turned to him and cocked his head. Castiel was lost deep in thought. Something about her name was too familiar. "Cas will help you."

"I don't...I don't need help." She was lying. Her grasp on the sweaty table was slipping, and she was about to collapse. But she could not stand to have another man touch her.

"It's okay, he's--"

"I'm an angel, remember?"

And with that, she fainted.

* * *

Mika awoke in the shower room, some kind of dull blue tile everywhere and lots of shower heads. Two of them were running, steaming up the gigantic room, while she realized she was propped up in a chair.

"It's okay," the angel told her, "I'm brushing your hair."

She hadn't even thought of her hair. During her weird sex-torture, it had gotten quite sweaty and matted. She didn't have the strength to untangle it herself.

"Thank you," she said feebly, closing her eyes and letting the warm steam envelop her.

"Mika...that's quite an unusual name," Castiel said carefully. He had to know why it sounded so familiar.

She hesitated. "I don't really want to talk about that."

"I'm sorry about what my friend did to you. It wasn't right. I brought you here...I feel responsible."

"No, he's responsible. And it was fucked up."

"Yes," Castiel said, feeling out his words. "It was fucked up."

She giggled, a sound so close to music Castiel almost asked her to laugh again. "Have you ever said that before?"

"What?" he asked, her laugh still ringing in his ears.

"Fucked."

"Oh. Well, no, I don't think so."

She laughed again. Castiel wanted to keep making her laugh, but he didn't know any jokes. So he just kept brushing out her hair.

It took forty-five minutes, but he managed to untangle her hair. And sure, maybe he spent more time on it than strictly necessary. But her hair was so soft, so impossibly golden, and Castiel was having a hard time restraining himself from simply running his fingers through it. He found it quite confusing; he wasn't one to indulge in pleasures of the flesh--not including his brief stint as a human--but something about Mika was just so... _appealing_. Especially the way her soft as silk, golden hair hung down to just above the jut of her hipbones.

"Mika? All done. Let's get you clean." He leaned down to help her up from the chair, and she eagerly accepted. She was too tired to pay attention to the sparks that danced where her skin met Castiel's skin, but he wasn't. It was addictive, soothing, like an integral piece of _something_ had been missing, all until he felt those sparks.

"Thank you, um, Castiel," she said shyly, as he half carried her over to where the showers were running.

"Don't mention it," he mumbled. "Here, if you stand here..." she tried, and failed, to stand on her own. "It's okay. Lean against the wall. I'll soap you up."

If she hadn't just forcibly orgasmed multiple times in front of him, she would have shied away. Instead, she found herself saying, "thank you," to the angel rubbing soap on her legs. He smiled up at her half-heartedly.

Castiel took care to use a washcloth as he bathed her like a baptism. He wasn't sure if he wanted to feel any more of those distracting, addicting, thrilling sparks. At least until he could figure out what they meant.


	7. Roses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sparks and talks

Castiel held Mika gently in his arms, his trench coat protectively draped over her as he carried her down to the room she had been locked in the night before. She laid her head on his shoulder and loosely curled her arms around his neck. Each time he glanced down at her she smiled, and a streak of blue electricity shot through her. Those _eyes_.

She breathed him in, and he smelled like sunshine, all honey and ozone and faint traces of some sort of spice. She delighted in it until she felt him stop walking.

Castiel cleared his throat gently. "Mika, I thought you might like to sleep."

"Okay," she said. He gently let her out of his arms, but she kept the trench coat clutched tight to her front. "I don't...I have no clothes here."

"Here," he said, shrugging out of his blazer, "you can sleep in my shirt."

She nodded dumbly, too tired to argue. Castiel set his blazer down on the bed and loosened his tie, then set to unbuttoning his shirt. Mika stared. He was beautiful.

"Stand up," he ordered. She obeyed. "Arms." She held her arms out and let Castiel dress her in his shirt. "Here." He held out his coat. "For warmth."

Castiel helped her pull the coat on before pulling his own blazer back on. She smiled at him sleepily, then took a step forward and twined her arms around his neck.

Before he could ask what she was doing, she pressed a lazy kiss to his cheek and murmured, "thank you," in his ear. She pulled back and looked at him oddly for a moment, touched her lips absentmindedly and climbed into bed.

 

* * *

 

"Dean, what the fuck?"

"What?"

"She's a person, not your personal sex doll."

Dean glanced up from his laptop long enough to realize his unorthodox torture had actually struck a nerve in his younger brother. "She was acting shady," he said simply.

"She came here to help us. We could have tried talking to her more."

"Sure," Dean said noncommittally, taking a sip of his beer.

"Or Cas could have done a soulonoscopy."

Dean shot his brother a withering look and scoffed. "Yeah, because _that_ hurts less than what I did."

"Well, no..."

"Then forget about it. If she's that shook up Cas can just erase her memory."

Sam ran a nervous hand through his hair. "You know he doesn't really like to do that."

"Well he can suck it up."

With a ruffle of feathers, Castiel appeared, more disheveled than usual. His trench coat was missing along with his button down shirt, leaving him in a tie and blazer and looking like a confused stripper. "I need to talk to you. Both of you," he said, his voice low and serious.

"What the fuck are you wearing?" Dean asked.

"Did something happen to you?" Sam added, shooting his brother a look.

"Yes. No," Castiel said, his voice laced with urgency. "We need to talk." He collapsed into a chair at the kitchen table and pulled on his tie nervously.

"What is it Cas?" Dean asked, agitated.

"I know who she is. I know why I couldn't find anything about her. I know--"

"Yeah, we get it, you got it. Spit it out."

He swallowed, hard, his eyes darted around, then whispered, "She's a Nephilah." He paused, considering how to explain. "Sort of."

"A what?"

"Nephilim are half angel, half--"

"Yeah, we know," Dean said, cutting Castiel off.

"Okay, how can someone 'sort of' be a Nephilim?" Sam asked.

"Well, I had heard a while ago of an illicit affair between...between..."

"For the love of God Cas!" Dean rolled his eyes, aggravated at the unusually tight lipped angel.

"Michael and Aphrodite." His voice was barely a whisper.

Sam cocked his head. "How does that even work? And how did you find out?"

"It was her name...she's named for her father."

"Aren't there other girls named Mika though? Sure, it's weird, but not totally out there," Sam said.

Castiel glared weakly at him, too nerve wracked to do so properly. "It's not just the name. Her height, her obvious physical beauty...that, combined with the name." The boys looked nonplussed. "Nephilim are extremely tall. And Aphrodite possesses beauty beyond words." Castiel looked down and began to nervously pick at the sleeve of his blazer.

"Is there a reason this makes you so nervous?" Dean asked flippantly.

"Michael was in charge of Heaven before Sam," he flicked his eyes over to the taller brother, "pulled him into the cage. His offspring would be..." he trailed off anxiously. "Plus, her mother is Aphrodite. A Greek Goddess. For an angel to lay with her, let alone an archangel, is a metaphorical slap in the face to our Father. Mika, she would be..."

"Half angel half goddess?" Sam's eagerness betrayed him; he was always one for research but he had never so much as heard as anything close to what Castiel was describing.

"Yes. An incredibly powerful...force."

Dean smirked. "Hey, I banged Aphrodite's daughter." He paused. "She is _literally_ a love child!" He laughed heartily at his own joke, Sam merely smiling and Castiel frowning.

"You should not have done that. You should not have touched her, and I should never have brought her here. She is a one of a kind supernatural creature, and someone with the amount of power she has is surely highly desirable by monsters and demons alike."

"Cas, this is the safest place on earth," Sam said plainly. "Warded to its teeth and virtually off the grid. No one could find her here."

"It's not just that. My Father left Heaven to one of his children, Michael. The one to take his rightful place would be his offspring." Castiel paled. "And with Heaven in such disarray, I fear...I fear she may be killed. Or worse." The boys both grimaced. They knew what 'or worse' meant, and it was filled with screams, blood, torture, skin, metal and more.

"So, what? She's in charge upstairs?" Dean asked.

"I don't know. I'm not sure she even knows who she truly is."

"This isn't like a 'protect the helpless chick' kind of thing, is it?"

"She is far from helpless. Though I suspect she had no idea of the immense power she possesses."

Sam and Dean traded nervous glances. "So," Sam said slowly, "could she just...kill us?"

Castiel sighed resignedly, a decidedly human thing, before saying sadly, "I don't know."

"Where is she, by the way?" Dean asked.

"I put her back in the room she was in last night. She didn't have any clean clothes..." he looked down at his disheveled body briefly. "I lent her my shirt. And coat. To wear."

"Yeah, because those things aren't filthy," Dean said, while Sam tried and failed to stifle a laugh.

Castiel glared at them. Truth be told, Castiel was having a hard time staying present in the conversation. His mind kept wandering back to Mika, sleeping wrapped up in his clothes and nothing else. How she had smiled sleepily and kissed him on the cheek when he maneuvered her arms through the sleeves of his shirt and buttoned it up for her. The way his skin burst into flames beneath her lips for a few brief, glorious seconds. He had stared at her, stunned by the unfamiliar rush of heat, and watched while she climbed into the bed.

It was then, staring at her long legs, that he realized who she was. Or who she potentially was. He was sure enough about it to tell Sam and Dean. He had flown out in a terrified rush. She was still sleeping, blissfully unaware of the three men discussing her potentially deadly power.

Castiel cleared his throat and shook his head. "My clothes aren't filthy."

"Yeah, okay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I just want to say I wrote this before the mid season finale (actually before thanksgiving) and now I feel like I'm (sort of spoilers) ripping off the show. Even though its fan fic. Ugh I don't know. 
> 
>  
> 
> The other thing: I first refer to Mika as a nephilah, not a nephilim. I have a lot of opinions about the word nephilim, but here is a basic overview of why:  
> -nephilim is a plural word  
> -nephilah is singular  
> The thing is, in texts where nephilim are mentioned (the Bible) they are only ever referred to in multiples. So nephil could may be be the singular, but that has always sounded wrong to me. Nephilah sounds like it works better, but that's a feminine word and nephilim is masculine. BUT it could still work and grammatically make sense and...this is really getting out of hand. Basically, nephilim is a Hebrew word, I speak Hebrew, and the grammar of it drives me crazy. Okay. Sorry for the tangent!


	8. Spots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lets eat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mika isn't really in this chapter, sorry. Meet her friend!

Mika lay sleeping in a room that wasn't hers, bundled in clothes that weren't hers, dreaming of jolts of blue electricity, oblivious to the three men down the twisting hallways who were sat around a kitchen table, dissecting every little thing they had observed of her.

"She certainly doesn't seem to know about her, well, anything. But why was she so sketchy about her name?" Sam asked.

Castiel fidgeted with the sleeve of his blazer, eyes darting everywhere. He knew the prudent thing to do would be to tell the brothers about the electricity that bloomed whenever he touched Mika, but he was reticent to bring it up. He just wanted to look into it on his own a little first, maybe. The bunker certainly must have _some_ books referencing the...sparks.

"Michael and Aphrodite's affair has been rumored for centuries," Castiel supplied, ignoring Sam's question. "It's been said he was the one who cloaked Mount Olympus in a show of affection for her."

"What happened?"

"I don't know. I didn't even believe it was real," he mumbled.

Dean cleared his throat. "Well, we need to find out more about her. Where did you find her, Cas?"

"The bathroom of a coffee shop. She was on her knees, praying."

"Kinky," Dean said, with a raise of his eyebrows.

Castiel shook his head. "Perhaps she frequents that particular establishment."

"We could ask around there, see if anyone remembers her or knows anything about her," Sam said. "But I think we might be overlooking the biggest source of information. You slept with her, Dean. You had to have talked to her some. What do you remember?"

Something white hot flared inside of Castiel as he half-listened to his friend recount his night with Mika.

"...and she was gone when I woke up. That's all I know."

"That's not much," said Sam.

Dean rolled his eyes. "It's only mid afternoon. Let's hit up the coffee place and see if anyone recognizes 'Kelly' or whatever."

 

***

  
It was decided that Castiel, with his less than impressive people skills, would be the one stuck with babysitting duty. Not that he was complaining. Sam and Dean left him in the library, still shirtless, raptly watching a documentary about bees.

At the coffee shop, they decided to go with the rarely used, but almost always effective estate-lawyers-looking-for-dead-aunts-niece. Luckily, the barista recognized her description.

"Yeah, Kelly? Super tall, way hot, sort of intense?" the barista, Ken, rambled a bit while he absentmindedly assembled some sort of newfangled latte for Sam.

"Sure," Dean said, shrugging.

"She comes in here a few days a week. She never really talks to anyone. Man, I've been working up the nerve to talk to her for two months. Sometimes she comes in with this purple haired chick, Michelle I think? Usually on Thursdays. So if you come back tomorrow, you should catch her." Ken slid Sam's drink across the counter, nodding to himself.

"Today is Thursday," Sam said pointedly. "Has she been in here?"

"Whoops, my bad man. My shift started like an hour ago. But I haven't seen her. They usually sit in those chairs back there," Ken said, jutting his chin in the direction of a couple of overstuffed armchairs.

"Thanks man," Dean said. He tossed a ten down on the counter and muttered, "keep the change," already halfway to the armchairs when Ken yelled his thanks after him.

Sam and Dean camped out in the chairs for a few hours, with intermittent texts from Castiel (including one asking if he could get a beehive for the bunker, which was promptly shut down), before they saw a flash of purple hair.

"Be cool," Sam warned.

"Dude. I know."

They waited until Michelle got her drink and took a seat before approaching. She was small but curvy, dark eyes offset by her dark purple hair. A lip ring, nose stud and pierced eyebrow gleamed silver in a diagonal across her pale olive complexion.

"Excuse me, are you Michelle?"

She looked up warily from her coffee. "Maybe. Who the fuck are you?"

"We are Sean and Dan Cooper, estate lawyers. Do you mind if we sit?" Sam asked, gesturing to the chairs opposite her.

"Yes," she grumbled. They sat anyway.

"We're looking for someone you might know, a Kelly? Her aunt recently passed and included her in the will," Sam explained, puppy dog eyes in full effect.

Michelle was not fazed. She glared at them as she sipped her coffee then said flatly, "Kelly told me she didn't have any family."

"From what I understand, they may have been estranged," Dean said.

Michelle frowned. "I haven't seen her lately. Which is weird, because she's been sleeping on my couch most nights for two months. I guess she could have shacked up with someone, but she's more the hit it and quit it type."

Sam shot a sympathetic look at Dean, which he pointedly ignored.

"When did you last see her?" Sam asked gently.

"Like a week ago, maybe a little less."

Sam and Dean exchanged looks with raised eyebrows; Mika had only been with them for a little over twenty four hours.

"Do you know where we could find her?"

"No. I shouldn't even be talking to you. She hates people up in her business."

Sam gave her an awkward smile. "Is there anything else you could tell us about her?"

Michelle toyed with a dark purple curl for a moment before cautiously answering, "I think she lived in Vermont before she moved here. I also think she has a brother somewhere, but I don't think they talk. His name might be Anthony? Antwon? She said it in her sleep sometimes." Michelle shifted uncomfortably. "When I asked, she said it was her brother."

"Okay. Well, that might be enough to track her down. Thanks," Dean said, patting the table.

"Oh, and if you find her, can you tell her to either come back, or come get her crap? It's fucking everywhere."

Sam nodded and got up, following Dean out to the car.

*** 

Castiel found bees interesting, but the draw to stand outside of Mika's temporary bedroom was stronger than the documentary. From where he stood he could hear her breathing, her heartbeat, the soft sounds she made in her sleep. Castiel fought an inexplicable urge to burst through the door and stare at her. But he had more restraint than that, and so he stood outside the door, waiting, until the Winchesters came home.

"Cas, what are you doing man?" Dean's voice rang out loud down the hallway, jolting Castiel out of his reverie.

"Nothing," he mumbled.

"Is Mika up yet?" Sam inquired.

Castiel shook his head. "Let's talk in the library."

The three men ambled on down the hallway silently. Each of them consumed in their own thoughts about the mysterious girl down the hall.

Sam was first to break the silence.

"So, we learned basically nothing, Cas. Except she might have brother. Anthony or something."

Castiel cocked his head to the side and ran down all the rumors he had heard of Michael and Aphrodite's affair. One child had been hard to believe, but two? He was still having a hard time believing the whole thing was true.

"Interesting," was what Castiel said.

Dean forced a loud cough. "I think we should wake her up and talk to her."

"We could get dinner or something," Sam muttered. "I'm hungry."

Dean nodded in agreement and Castiel shrugged a little.

"Yeah well you don't eat, Cas," Dean said.

"She might enjoy some food," Castiel said. "You put her through a trying morning. Dean."

Dean groaned loudly and put his face in his hands. "I got her to talk, okay?"

Castiel shot him a dirty look as Sam said, "How about you go get food from somewhere, Dean, and Cas and I will wake her up. Deal?"

"Whatever," Dean shrugged. "Pizza? Great. I'll be back soon."

That was how the taller Winchester and a half dressed angel came to be standing in front of Mika's door, with no idea how to wake up a girl they'd sort of kind of kid napped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last name rock&roll shout out: Alice cooper


	9. The More You Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> reading is fundamental

"Aren't you going to knock on the door?" Castiel glanced at Sam, equally at a loss for how to proceed.

"You knock on the door," Sam shot back quickly.

"Why me?" Castiel asked, exasperation seeping into his voice.

"You brought her here." Castiel just stared at him impassively, so Sam continued. "You helped her shower. You lent her that ridiculous trench coat--"

"--it is _not_ ridiculous--"

"--so she could have something to wear," Sam finished.

Castiel grit his teeth almost imperceptibly. "Fine. I'll do it."

He rolled his shoulders back and raised his hand to knock when Mika's softly melodic voice called out to them, "I'm awake, you idiots!"

Castiel lowered his hand and shared a confused look with Sam.

"Why didn't you come out?" Sam asked.

"Because the door won't fucking open _and_ you guys are insane!" she yelled. "I guess the angel isn't that bad, though," she added in a quiet mutter. "And! I don't have pants!"

Sam winced. "I'm not sure our clothes will fit you," he said.

"Can you open the fucking door?"

"Oh, shit, the warding," Sam said quietly. "Cas, can you uh--"

"Of course." Castiel used his grace to slash through the warding he had placed on the door the day before. "You can open it now, Mika."

The door opened barely a crack, just enough to see one very angry, very blue eye. "I want to leave," she said flatly.

"We can't do that yet," Sam said, putting an effort into making his voice sympathetic.

"Then bring me some goddamn pants," she snarled, and slammed the door in their faces.

***

Thirty minutes later, Mika was clad in a plaid flannel shirt that hung off her narrow shoulders at an odd angle and a pair of boxers in a different plaid pattern that managed to violently clash with the shirt. She sat cross legged on a chair in the library, angrily eating pizza and glaring at her plate.

The three men sat opposite her, Sam and Dean cautiously eating, but mostly watching her.

"So..." Dean slowly began, only to be cut off by an angry glare from Mika.

"No."

She grabbed another slice out of the box and took a vicious bite, her scowl never leaving her face.

"I thought you were gonna erase her memory," Dean hissed at Castiel.

"Why would I do that?" Castiel asked, nonplussed.

"Obvious reasons," Dean said in a loud whisper, rolling his eyes.

"No one mentioned that to me. Also, I immensely dislike doing that." Castiel looked fondly at the angry girl in front of him. "Even so, I don't think I would have done it."

Dean threw his hands up in exasperation.

"So, Mika," Sam said. She flinched almost imperceptibly when he said her name, but they all caught it. "Where are you from?"

"I want to leave," she said resolutely.

"Well--"

"So, do you guys own anything that isn't fucking plaid?"

Sam looked desperately at Castiel and mouthed _help_. He cocked his head to the side, a silent question. Sam rolled his eyes, then mouthed _she likes you best_.

Castiel squashed the skittering sense of pride he felt at that and turned back to Mika. "I'm sorry for what we've put you through," he said sincerely.

"You mean what _he's_ put me through," she said, jabbing a finger in Dean's direction.

"Hey!"

"Shut up," Sam and Mika said in unison.

"Anyway," Castiel continued, "we are _all_ sorry. Right?"

"Right," Dean grudgingly agreed.

"You can have the job here. If you tell me your previous address, I will, uh, zap in and get your things."

"What if I just want to leave because you're all crazy?" she said calmly.

"I think it's time for the 'truth is out there' talk," Sam said. "So, have you heard of the _Supernatural_ books?"

Dean groaned loudly.

***

Mika fingered the stack of books on the bedside table, looking for all the world like stupid drugstore paperbacks and not, as Castiel called them, the _Winchester_ _Gospels_. She had rolled her eyes at the stupid name but took the books nonetheless, before retreating to her borrowed bedroom.

She now sat with the first one in front of her, seriously doubting her sanity. Though Castiel had assured her every word was true, and Sam and Dean had begrudgingly agreeing, she was having trouble. Fucking _ghosts_?

Yeah, maybe she could get on board with angels. After all, the one she met seemed pretty angelic. He was beautiful, a word she thought was a little weird to use to describe a man. But he wasn't _really_ a man, right? And God, was he beautiful. The electricity that seemed to flit through her veins every time he touched her was certainly otherworldly, probably some affect of what he was. She wondered if everyone felt those electric pulses when he touched them, or if it was somehow heightened by how attractive she found him. Both, probably.

Despite the unbelievable material and slightly pulpy way it was written, Mika found herself utterly entrenched in world of _Supernatural_. She flew through the first book and was halfway through the second one when sleep dragged her under.

***

"All I'm saying, Sam, is you didn't have to tell her about the books. The _books_ , man! They're embarrassing," Dean groaned.

"It's the easiest way for her to learn about us. It's not like I like them either," Sam snapped.

Dean grumbled some more and downed the rest of his beer. "I'm tired," he announced. "Are we waiting for her, or what?"

Sam shrugged.

"I believe she is asleep," Castiel said.

"Then I'm hitting the hay. Night," Dean called out as he left the library.

"Me too. You all set, Cas?"

Castiel nodded half heartedly.

"Alright. See you in the morning."

Castiel watched Sam leave and pondered how he would spend his night. He thought it was odd that Mika slept; angels didn't, neither did the Greek gods, and she was a unique being comprised partly of each. Yet she slept.

Maybe he would spend the night looking through the multitude of books in the library for some kernel of information about the electricity he kindled with Mika. There were so many books, but Castiel could read inhumanly fast--though of course, he wasn't human.

Well, now was as good a time as any to get started on research.

"I like the books," he grumbled to the empty room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is kind of short, sorry. The next one will be longer, promise!  
> Also, I know Mika is a real bitch in this chapter but she gets better


	10. Spine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> decisions, decisions

"So, have you guys seen Mika?" Dean asked a few days later around a mouthful of omelet.

"No. Close your mouth, Dean."

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

"I have," Castiel said quietly.

Sam and Dean turned to face Castiel, who was suddenly very interested in the buttons on his trench coat.

"And..." Sam prompted.

Castiel glanced up briefly before letting his eyes dart back down to his buttons. "She comes out at night. I think it's because she knows you'll be asleep. She doesn't talk, really...sometimes she asks for clarification about something that happens in the books. She asks for food, a towel to shower with, clothes--"

"Is that where all my fuckin' clothes have gone?" Dean asked, his fork clattering down to his plate in a loud burst of sound.

"Yes. Sam is larger, I thought your things might be more comfortable."

"I'm running out of fucking underwear," Dean muttered.

"What?" Sam asked.

"What?"

"Your pants are too big for her. I've been giving her your boxers and shirts," Castiel clarified.

"Could've asked," Dean grumbled.

"She doesn't like you. She thinks they're Sam's."

Sam let out a loud peal of laughter at Dean's angry face. Dean stabbed a piece of omelet and shoved it into his mouth angrily.

"I don't think she likes you either, Sam."

Sam's laughter stopped abruptly. He cleared his throat loudly then asked, "Is she almost done with the books?"

"Yes, she started on the unpublished ones. I gave her your tablet."

"Cas, you gotta ask before you just give our stuff away man," Dean said.

"You didn't ask before you, um," Castiel fumbled for words in a truly uncharacteristic move. "Before you hurt her."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Then we still wouldn't know her name!"

"You still shouldn't have done it."

"Agree to disagree."

"We're getting off topic," Sam said loudly. "What do we do when she finishes the books?"

"Say, hey you know that dick Michael that wanted to wear me like a suit? Congrats, he's your dad," Dean snarked.

"No," Castiel said firmly.

"I wasn't being serious," Dean mumbled.

Castiel let the conversation fall to the back of his mind. He wasn't being completely truthful with his friends. He was purposefully forgetting to mention the night when Mika had banged out of her room, wild eyed and excitable, asking if he had really rescued Dean from Hell. She had looked at him with such awe he had almost been at a loss for words, barely managing to dumbly nod at her. Her smile could have lit a million suns. She had asked _where was the handprint on Dean's arm?_ and he had hesitantly placed his hand on her left bicep. Mika had simply breathed and stared at him unwaveringly, the seconds stretching into minutes, until a yawn broke out across her face and he told her _you should probably get some sleep_. She had looked at him with some emotion Castiel couldn't decipher, and then he was alone.

"Cas? That sound good buddy?"

Dean's voice broke through Castiel's memory like a hammer.

"What?"

"When she's done with the books, we'll see if she still wants the job. If not, well, we can figure that out if it happens," Sam said.

"That sounds acceptable," Castiel agreed.

"Alright. She has until tomorrow to finish those books or we're going in to talk to her. Deal?" Dean said.

Sam nodded and Castiel made a noncommittal sort of noise.

"Great. Shooting range?"

***

That night, Mika laid the tablet down on the bedside table after finishing the final book, _Swan Song_. She couldn't help but feel unsatisfied with how it ended; Sam in hell, then not, and Dean playing house with some chick and her kid. The subject matter was no more believable than it was when she began the series, though she did remember that year with all the freak weather stuff. Apparently that was the Apocalypse.

If the books were true, Mika supposed she had better insight into how the Winchesters worked, and why they didn't let her go. That didn't excuse Dean's behavior though, because _who the fuck does that_? She decided maybe she could forgive Sam, or at least be a little nicer to him. He hadn't really done anything besides lock her in a room, and given everything she just read it kind of made sense. Sort of.

She got off the bed and shrugged a flannel button down on top of the t shirt she was wearing. Might as well face them now, she'd have to sooner or later.

"Hello?" Mika poked her head out the door. She was used to just running into Castiel around 3 AM with small requests; venturing out of her room before midnight was a whole other matter.

"In here!" she heard someone shout.

She followed the voice down the hall and into the library, where Sam sat alone on his laptop with a beer. He smiled at her uneasily.

"Hi," she said, easing herself into a chair on the opposite side of the table. "Where's everybody else?"

"Dean's asleep. Cas is probably watching something on Netflix in his room," Sam said with a small smile. He took a long pull of his beer. "You finish the books?"

"Yeah. Is it..." she trailed off, unsure. Sam just watched her. "Is it all really true?"

"Yes. Painfully," Sam laughed.

Mika shifted slightly in her seat, unsure of her next move. "What happened next?"

"A lot of stuff. Look, Mika," she flinched a little at her name, but Sam soldiered on, "we'd still like you to consider the job here. You can get your stuff from your old place, we'll pay you, and you can stay here. How does that sound?"

Well, she really did need a job. And sleeping in a bed the past few nights was incomparable to the two months she'd spent on Michelle's couch in a wonderful way. She couldn't remember the last time her back didn't hurt.

"I...yes. Good. I will, thank you," Mika said, fumbling for her words.

"Excellent! We can go over everything tomorrow, maybe after we go get your stuff." Sam smiled brightly at her.

"Can...can Castiel take me?" she asked timidly.

"Of course!" Sam said after a startled look flashed across his face.

"Okay. I, um, I think I'll go get some sleep, if that's okay."

"Of course it is! I'll see you tomorrow."

Mika got up and made her way out of the room. At the threshold, she paused. "Sam?" she called out hesitantly.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for, you know, saving the world," she said.

Sam didn't reply, just smiled sadly at her and took a sip of his beer.

***

Castiel had been listening, of course. One of the upsides of angel ears--he could hear almost everything if he thought about it. So when he heard Mika's door open, he had followed the sound of her footsteps in his mind and listened to her conversation with Sam.

The idea of spending time alone with Mika was...exciting, in a way he wasn't sure he had felt before. He figured he'd drive her to her friend's place tomorrow, show her that even though he's an angel, he's not all that different. Right?

Who was he kidding. Castiel had been immersed in humanity for, what, eight years now? And he was only marginally better at blending in now than he was that first day he crashed down from the sky and stuffed himself inside Jimmy Novak's body.

Mika was no more human than him, though. She just didn't know it yet. Castiel was going to protect her from that truth as long as he could; he knew all too well the pang of wanting to be human. He could let her hold onto that lie for a little bit longer.


	11. Movement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> riding in cars with boys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a friendly reminder that Michelle thinks Mika's name is Kelly

Castiel's car was something straight out of a bad 80's cop movie. Something a pimp would have driven. It even had the whole ridiculous hydraulic lift thing.

Mika leaned her head back against the worn leather interior and tried not to feel too much like a hooker being whisked off to a job by her pimp. She opened her mouth to say as much, but reconsidered; she was pretty sure Castiel either wouldn't get it, or wouldn't find it very funny.

"Were you going to say something?" Castiel's deep, rumbling voice soothed over her like honey.

Mika shook her head and pressed herself further into the seat. "Just a little nervous, I guess."

"Why?"

"I haven't seen Michelle in a while."

"I thought you were living there?"

"Mhmmmm."

"You've only been with us for a few days."

Mika cracked one eye open to look at Castiel. Every time she saw him she was struck by just how beautiful he was; it was almost getting hard to look at him. She had been with more than her fair share of guys, but she had never wanted to simply stare at one as much as she did Castiel. And it's not like they had slept together, or anything.

Sure, he had helped her shower and subsequently dressed her like she was five years old. And yeah, she did kiss him on the cheek once. Then there was the whole thing when he showed her where he had left his brand on Dean. That had been weird...butterfly-inducing, almost. Mika hadn't had butterflies since she was fourteen.

Then there was the way her skin sparked whenever and wherever he touched it. That had been the focus of most of her dreams lately, Castiel running his fingers over her body and whispering in a low growl, "Can you feel them here? And here? What about here?" like some fucked up, sexualized version of those old Verizon commercials.

Can you hear me now? Good.

***

Mika's skin itched the closer they got to Michelle's apartment. In the hallway, she could have sworn she had hives, but her skin was clear as ever.

"Listen," she said when they got to the door, "just let me do all the talking. Okay, Castiel?"

"Won't it be rude if I don't say anything?"

"It doesn't matter," Mika gave him a small smile. "We'll be gone in five minutes."

"If you say so," Castiel grumbled.

And with that, Mika started pounding on the door.

"Open up you skank!" Mika yelled.

"If she is your friend, why are you calling her such an offensive name?" Castiel asked quietly.

Mika ignored him and knocked again. "I know you're in there!"

The door swung open to reveal a half asleep Michelle, her purple curls tied in a bun on top of her head. She rubbed her eyes and blinked blearily at Mika.

"Kelly? What are you doing here? Where have you been?" Michelle paused and slowly looked Mika up and down. "What...what the hell are you wearing?"

Mika's outfit was a sore point of contention. She was wearing another poorly executed excuse for an outfit pieced together out of men's clothes that weren't hers. Jean shorts that Dean vehemently denied were his (she had glared at him until he stopped babbling about how he didn't know how they wound up in his possession), a black t shirt that hung awkwardly from her narrow frame, and Castiel's trench coat to top it all off. The shorts were held up by a couple of safety pins folding the waistband in on itself and a belt, pulled far past the last hole and wrapped around itself in a knot.

"Clothes," Mika said bruskly, pushing past Michelle into the apartment. "I'm here to get my stuff."

"Fucking finally," Michelle muttered. "Where have you been?"

"Places," Mika shouted from somewhere deep inside the apartment.

"Yeah, that clears things up." Michelle turned her dark eyes to Castiel. "Are you just going to stand there?"

"I..."

"He can wait in the hall!"

"Who is he?"

"Castiel."

"That isn't a name."

"That's what I said," Mika said, reappearing with an overstuffed duffel bag on her shoulder.

"Are you moving in with him?"

"Yes."

"Why, is he your sugar daddy?"

"What's a sugar daddy?" Castiel asked.

Both girls turned to stare at him, Michelle in incredulous disbelief and Mika in a pissed off glare.

"He's just trying to be funny," Mika covered, shifting her gaze to Michelle. "He isn't."

"So why are you moving in with him?"

"I have hired her for a job," Castiel said.

Michelle smirked. "So, he is. Well, it's about time you cashed in on your looks. And I guess he's sexy in a professor kind of way," Michelle said, giving Castiel an appraising kind of look.

"He's not--" Mika started, then sighed in frustration. "Whatever. I have my stuff. Let's go, Castiel. See ya, Michelle."

"Later, bitch. If he skips out on paying, you can come back, you know."

"Why would I not pay her for the service she will be providing?"

Mika glared daggers at him and shoved her duffel bag into his chest. "Shut up," she hissed at him.

"He's kind of weird, yeah?" Michelle said.

"Yeah. We're leaving now," Mika grabbed Castiel's sleeve and started pulling him down the hall. "Bye!"

"Nice to meet you," Castiel called out, but Michelle slammed the door before he got it all out.

As soon as she heard the door, Mika turned to him and pinned him against the wall. She stared levelly into his eyes and said calmly, "Castiel. What, the _fuck_ , was that?"

"What?" he said, shifting slightly under her grasp.

"What did we talk about in the hall?"

"Not to talk."

"Yes. And what did you do?"

"Talk," he said lamely.

"Yes. The last thing I need her to think is some weird guy killed me," Mika said, relinquishing Castiel's shoulders from her grasp.

Castiel shrugged his shoulders and moved to catch up to Mika, who had continued down the hall without him. He could have prevented her from slamming him against the wall -- he was an angel, after all -- but her strength had caught him off guard. For such a skinny thing she possessed a surprising amount of it. She wasn't as strong as him, though, or even as strong as a nephilah should be. Maybe she just didn't know how to tap into that strength yet.

***

Mika rested her head against the passenger side window, not speaking. She glanced over at Castiel and took in his countenance; face neutral as ever, but hands wrapped so tight around the steering wheel his knuckles were blanched white.

"I'm sorry," she sighed. Castiel jerked his head over to look at her. "Watch the road."

"I don't need to; I'm an angel."

She laughed softly. "I know. I'm sorry I was so mean in there. And I'm sorry I called you weird, you're not. It's just..." she trailed off.

Castiel didn't urge her to continue. He kept his focus on the road, mostly, occasionally flicking his eyes back to Mika.

"I don't really like staying in one place for too long," she finally said. "I was at Michelle's for two months...I don't know."

"Okay," he said measuredly, slowly.

"I guess I liked living with her. Moving day has always sucked."

Dozens of cheap apartments and motels flashed behind Mika's closed eyelids, an unwanted vision of her childhood. Patchy electricity, weird smells, creepy neighbors, everything she wanted so desperately to forget. At least back then she had had her brother. Now...

"Is there a particular reason you find it unpleasant?"

Mika made a noncommittal sort of noise and fiddled with the hem of her shirt. "I guess," she conceded.

"Would you like to talk about it?"

"Not really," she said softly.

Castiel nodded. "That's fine." He shot a glance at her again; she was still leaning against the window, eyes closed. "If you change your mind, you can talk to me, Mika."

She flinched a little at her name, but otherwise remained perfectly still. "Thank you, Castiel."

***

Castiel may not have had the best grip on human emotions, but as he watched Mika trudge off towards her room with her duffel bag slung across her slumped shoulders, even he knew something was off. It had to have something to do with the conversation she didn't want to have in the car.

"What's wrong with her?" Dean asked as soon as they heard her bedroom door shut.

"I'm not sure," Castiel said slowly, joining him and Sam at the library table.

"We might have caught a case."

"It's not too far from here, though," Sam added.

Castiel just looked at them.

"We uh...we'd need you to stay here with Mika. But you could show her the ropes for the new job; what we'd need her to do while we're off on a case," Dean explained.

Castiel nodded thoughtfully. "Alright."

"Really?" Sam looked up from his laptop. "We thought you'd need some convincing."

"No," Castiel said. "I find her interesting."

Sam and Dean exchanged a look that Castiel couldn't decipher.

"Interesting, huh?" Dean said.

"What's the case?" Castiel asked.

"Just some vamps, we think. We're gonna have to check out the bodies," Sam said.

"We should be back in a few days," Dean added quickly.

A few days. Castiel figured that would give him enough time to search the library himself for information about the sparks he felt whenever he touched Mika. If he couldn't find the answer there, there was no answer.

Maybe he'd have to do some hands on research.


	12. Gates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> let's play a game

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been the bane of my existence. Enjoy!

"One more time--"

"Will you leave, please? I told you we'll be fine."

Dean eyed Mika warily. Him and Sam really should have been on the road hours ago, but Sam had spent an inordinate amount of time introducing Mika to the finer points of the library. "I just want her to be prepared, Dean!" Sam had said, even though Dean repeatedly pointed out that Castiel, who was well aware of every facet of the library, would be there, keeping her company the entire time they were gone.

Castiel was acting sort of weird, too. A little shifter than usual. He kept glaring at Dean impatiently, like Dean was holding up some big huge plans he had. Castiel never had plans, let alone big plans. And all he'd be doing was sitting around with Mika, who was kind of bitch.

Well, Dean supposed she was really only a bitch to him. And that he kind of deserved it. Well...okay, really deserved it.

"We're only going to be a few hours away--"

"I _know_ \--"

"So if anything happens, _Cas_ , just call us. Okay?"

"I'm sure everything will be fine, Dean," Castiel said with a note of impatience.

"Alright, and one last time, Miss Secretary," Dean said, ignoring a scowling Mika, "where are we going and what is the case?"

Mika rolled her eyes exaggeratedly at Sam, who had already been sitting in the car for fifteen minutes. "Lycan, Colorado. Vampires, you think. Reports of exsanguinated girls."

"And exsanguinated means..."

"Jesus, I'm not that dumb," Mika scoffed.

Dean stared at her expectantly.

"Drained of their blood. Happy?"

"Yes. We're leaving now. Come on, Baby," Dean said, finally getting into the car.

"What did you just you just call me?"

"What?"

"He's talking to the car!" Sam yelled out the passenger side window. "He calls it Baby."

"Really, Sam? _It_?" Dean shook his head. " _Her_."

With a final goodbye yelled out the windows, Sam and Dean finally pulled out of the bunker and started the trip to Lycan.

"You think they'll be okay?"

"Jesus, Dean. Yes, I do."

"What about Cas? You don't think she'd hurt him?"

Sam shook his head. "I'm not sure she knows how to tap into her power like that."

Dean didn't really like the idea of leaving some chick he barely knew, who apparently contained the power of an atom bomb mixed with a nuke, alone with Castiel for a few days. Mika was like a stick of dynamite that had been lit, but no one knew how long the lead was.

"Well, I guess Cas can take care of himself, anyway," Dean muttered and gripped the wheel a little tighter.

***

Mika and Castiel watched the boys pull out of the bunker. They stood in awkward silence for all of fifteen seconds before Mika broke it with, "Alright, Castiel. Let's go get drunk," and walked back inside.

"It's still quite early," Castiel called after her.

"So?"

"I'm an angel; I have quite a high tolerance."

Mika turned around and waited for Castiel to catch up to her. "So you'll do two shots for every one I do. Sound fair?"

Castiel nodded dumbly.

"Great," she beamed. "Tequila?"

***

Mika was drunk. Or, well on her way to drunk. Castiel's glassy eyes kept flitting to where she laid, splayed out on one of the library tables with salty fingers and lime rinds scattered around. He, much to her annoyance, kept a bit of distance between them; he was seated at the table she was using as a makeshift bed, an increasingly empty tequila bottle in his hands.

Things needed to change.

She had slept with Dean, not knowing who he was, over a week ago and the familiar weakness was starting to ease back into her bones. She needed an energy boost, and soon.

Maybe Castiel could work. He was, after all, unreasonably beautiful. And she felt those electric sparks across her skin where he touched her.

Yeah, Castiel would do.

"Castiel, get up on the table with me," she said, gesturing all around her.

"I'm not sure that's advisable."

"Are you drunk?"

"Not particularly. Are you?"

"Particularly," she echoed with a laugh. "A little bit."

She sat up suddenly, tucking her legs underneath each other and wiggling until she was comfortably sitting cross legged, facing Castiel head-on.

"Wanna play a game?"

"What kind of game?" he asked.

"A drinking game." He shrugged noncommittally. "Okay, its like truth or dare, except if you don't want to do your dare or whatever, you drink. Sound good?"

"Yes," he answered.

"Great," she said, flopping back down on the table. "I'll start. Truth or dare, Castiel?"

"Truth."

"How old are you?" Mika turned her head to look at him.

"Several millennia," he said, a little unsure.

"Seriously?"

"Yes."

"Okay," Castiel announced. "My turn."

Mika laughed and nodded. "Truth. Hit me."

Castiel looked deep in concentration for a good minute, before saying, "Do you have any family?"

Mika felt her hand move up to her throat of its own accord, because she had certainly not given her body permission to touch the thin silvery-white scar that ran above her clavicle.

"Drink," she said, reaching her hand out to Castiel for the bottle. He handed it over and she quickly went through the motions. Castiel almost looked disappointed.

She spit the lime out of her mouth and grinned at Castiel. "Truth or dare?"

Mika and Castiel continued on in this fashion, trading inane questions back and forth, until Castiel had a burst of confidence on his next round.

"It's your turn," Mika said, words rolling together a little.

"Dare."

Mika perked up, folding her limbs back into a sitting position to get a better look at him. "Really?"

Castiel nodded resolutely.

"I dare you...to let me do a shot off of you."

He cocked his head to the side. "What does that entail?"

"Would you like me to show you first?"

"I--yes."

Mika licked at her wrist and shook some salt onto the damp skin before laying back down on the table.

"Get over here."

Castiel hesitantly stood up, a little clumsy, and came to stand beside her.

Mika smiled up at him and lifted her shirt up a few inches. She ran a lime wedge over one hipbone, letting the juice run across her skin. Castiel watched unsurely.

"Okay, you're going to suck the salt from my wrist first. Then, take a shot from the bottle, then the lime. You saw where I put that?"

Castiel swallowed and nodded.

"Good. Let's go," she said, and held out her wrist.

She felt his long fingers close around hers to draw her wrist closer, and the electricity that sparked across her skin where he touched felt like fire in her drunken state. She watched, entranced, as he lowered his mouth to her proffered wrist and ran his tongue across her skin, so slowly she thought the fire might burn through her veins and eat her alive.

"Okay," he said hoarsely, and lowered her arm. "Next..."

"Bottle, then left hip bone."

Castiel nodded and wasted no time in tipping the bottle into his mouth, before quickly leaning down to suck at her hip bone. His mouth was a power surge against her, and she nearly shot up with the feeling of it. But she forced herself to remain still; a skill she had learned long ago. Don't let anyone see how they get to you.

He stood up slowly and stared at her with those big blue eyes, glassy with alcohol. "Like that?"

"That was perfect, Castiel," Mika said. "But your dare was to let me do one off you."

Mika pulled her shirt down before swinging her legs off the table so, she sat perched on the edge in front of him.

"Do you accept your dare?"

"Yes," he said quickly.

"Good. Come here," she said, motioning for him to stand between her legs.

Castiel hesitantly stepped forward. She grabbed his tie to pull him down a little, and got to work.

Mika leaned up and pulled Castiel's collar to the side to lick at the base of his neck before salting the damp skin. She then ran a lime wedge across the underside of his jaw on the other side of his throat, squeezing so the juice would run down his neck. Castiel was still as a statue.

"Now, after I do the salt, you're going to pour the tequila into my mouth. Okay?"

Castiel nodded and she leaned in, licking the salt crystals off his skin more thoroughly than necessary. With a last flick of the tongue, she leaned back and motioned to the bottle.

He lifted it to her lips and poured the cold liquid into her mouth. She tapped his arm to let him know it was enough and swallowed it down.

"Lime?" he asked.

Mika nodded and ducked under his chin to lick at the skin under his jaw.

When she had sucked all the flavor from his skin, she leaned back and smiled at his before pulling her legs back up to resume her cross legged position.

"Did you like your dare?" she asked.

"Very much," he answered earnestly.

"Good."

Castiel was staring at her in that unwavering way of his, and Mika watched as he stood there, wondering how he still seemed so stoic. She should have succeeded in making him want her by now; usually just a smile did the trick. He did say he liked it, though.

Fuck it.

She slid fluidly off the table, right in front of where he stood. Normally she'd be considered unnecessarily close, but this was different. This was necessary. He looked at her questioningly, but kept his mouth shut.

Mika twined Castiel's tie between her fingers and pulled him closer. She pressed her body close to his, and leaned in as if to kiss him; he tensed in anticipation.

Barely half an inch from his face, she flicked her eyes up to his and waited until he stared back. "Follow me," she said quietly, and started pulling him down the hall by his tie. Castiel followed eagerly.

Mika used her free hand to open the door to her room and tugged Castiel in after her. As soon as he crossed the threshold, she released his tie and kicked the door shut easily behind her.

She pushed Castiel gently to sit down on her bed and climbed on after him, straddling his lap. He rested his hands tentatively, lightly, on the tops of her thighs as she leaned in closer.

Mika ran one hand through his thick hair, the other resting on his shoulder, and whispered hotly into his ear, "I want you," in a way that she knew never failed to get the results she wanted.

His hands moved up to her waist and he pulled her down onto him harder. Mika smiled in triumph against the side of his face, and lightly dragged her mouth from his ear to the corner of his mouth, delighting in the way his stubble felt against her lips. Like sandpaper, but her lips still lit up hot electric against his skin. She leaned back slightly, just enough to look into his eyes.

Sure enough, big black pools of desire stared back at her. She leaned in to finally, finally kiss him, but so softly it barely qualified. Just a brush of her lips against his before leaning away again, but it was enough.

Castiel moved quickly, one hand darting to the small of her back and the other tightening the grip he had on her hip. He pulled her back into him and she smiled when he kissed her, hard and full of want.

"I want you too," he mumbled against her lips before kissing her soundly again.

"Good," she breathed, and leaned back to yank her shirt off and toss it behind her.

Castiel laughed under his breath and pulled her back in, his hands on her bare hips making sparks run all over her skin. She kissed him again, weakness in her bones fading, and smiled against his mouth.

It was exactly what she needed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Mika seems really manipulative here, but don't worry. She has a good reason
> 
> Also, I regret writing this on past tense. So much.


	13. Chains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> like you mean it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> despite the title of this chapter, no one gets tied up or chained to anything. just fyi

Dean paced around the motel room, thumbing through his phone and glaring at Sam.

"I just want to call! We haven't heard from either of them since we left."

"Dean, would you calm down? It's not like she's going to kill him."

Dean scowled at Sam. "You don't know that."

"Fine, call. But nothing's wrong, Cas is alive, they didn't burn down the bunker."

"Yeah, that's what you think," Dean said under his breath, angrily punching at his phone.

***

Castiel dimly heard his phone ringing somewhere, but he couldn't be bothered to care. He had a lap full of half goddess, half angel, and he wasn't planning on letting go anytime soon.

Mika's arms were twined around his neck, her mouth wet hot electric on his, so for all he cared, he didn't even have a phone.

Mika bit at his lower lip and pulled back a little. "Do you hear something?" she asked before lowering her head to mouth at his neck.

"No," Castiel lied.

"I think I hear ringing," she murmured against his skin.

"It's my phone," he said into her hair. "Ignore it."

He dug his fingers harder into her hips and she laughed, that wonderful, musical laugh. She rocked forward, pressing their bodies flush together and running a hand through his hair so he'd look up at her.

"That sounds like a plan," she whispered into his ear, and leaned down to gently bite at his ear lobe.

"Oh does it?" Castiel said playfully with a laugh.

He felt her nod her head against him before placing both her hands on his shoulders and pressing, toppling him over onto the bed. He ran a hand through her hair and pulled her close, into another electric storm kiss.

Mika rolled her hips down against his; Castiel's head tipped back on a sharp inhale, pressed back against the soft sheets. She took the opportunity to move her mouth somewhere else, and began unbuttoning Castiel's shirt. Her fingers fumbled in a lust drunk way, her lips and tongue and teeth grazing each new precious inch of skin she revealed.

She undid the last button with her teeth and grinned up at Castiel. He pulled Mika back up and flipped her over, settling on top of her, her legs on either side of him.

"Take those layers off already," she whined impatiently, worming her hands underneath them all to run her fingertips lightly up his spine, nails skimming across his skin.

Castiel shivered but complied, kissing her hard again before sitting up briefly to shuck the layers on his top half off. He left the tie; Mika seemed awfully fond of using it to pull him closer.

Which is exactly what she did. She yanked him down with a quick tug and pulled him into another searing kiss, her other hand dancing at his shoulder blades. He braced himself on one forearm and kissed her hard, electric sparking between their skin.

Castiel lost track of time in her mouth, one hand buried in her hair and the other gripping her hip hard, keeping her undulating body in place. He kissed her hard, and she gave it right back, full of biting and sucking and a sweet tangle of tongues. It was all consuming and she's so willing, her mouth hot and wet and...wait, couldn't he be doing something better with his hands?

Yes, yes he could. Castiel sucked her bottom lip into his mouth and nipped at it before pulling away slightly. Her fingers ran through his hair, trying to pull him back, but he resisted.

He raked his fingers down her side, angry red lines left behind, and watched, fascinated, as she leaned into the violent touch.

On a hunch, he softly nipped at her neck. Mika arched up into him, pressing their bodies impossibly closer, the small whine leaving her lips like music to his ears. He dragged his lips down to her collarbone, first to softly kiss the hollow above and then to bite, harder this time, on the sharply protruding bone. He heard a contented sigh from above him, and felt her frantic fingers pulling at his belt.

He sat back on his haunches and looked down at her; gold hair splayed around her like a halo, pale skin seeming to glowing more than usual. She stared up at him, unmoving, waiting. She kept her eyes trained on his, even though he wasn't looking back; his eyes were flicking all over her body while his fingers softly touched the bite mark on her collarbone.

"Do you like that?"

"What?"

His hand shot up to grab her hair and tug. Her eyes fell shut when she gasped softly, reveling in the dull pain. Castiel shifted above her, and then his breath was hot and sweet across her lips.

"Look at me," he said, voice full of command he had once used to lead battalions of angels.

She opened her eyes and he tightened his grip on her hair.

"I believe I asked you a question," he continued. "I expect an answer."

"What...what was the question?"

"Do you like when I hurt you?"

"It doesn't hurt," she breathed. "It feels like fire in my bones. Especially...especially when it's you."

Castiel's grip on her hair loosened until his fingers were merely threaded through the soft strands; she made a soft sound and leaned into his hand in a feeble attempt to regain the delicious pull.

"What do you mean, especially me?"

Mika shook her head slowly to clear the heated cobwebs from her mind. She was too riled up to talk about this.

"When you touch me," she explained, "its like fireworks underneath my skin."

Castiel withdrew his hand from her hair abruptly and sat back on his haunches again.

"What? I figured it's because you're an angel," she said, propping herself up on her elbows.

"No," Castiel said quietly. "I feel them too."

His body felt cold now that he was no longer pressed up against her, electricity no longer running beneath his skin. She looked up at him, confusion twisting her delicate features.

"Does that mean anything?"

"I don't know," he confessed. "It might be because of who you are."

"Who I am?" she asked. She pulled her legs from around his sides to sit up better.

And _shit_ , Castiel was not supposed to say that. Maybe he _was_ a little drunk. He wasn't supposed to mention who she really was, but now...

"Mika," he said. "That's who you are."

"Yeah, I know that," she said, rolling her eyes. "I know my name."

Castiel eyed her seriously for a minute. Her hair was sticking up on one side from where he pulled it, eyes dark with want and his teeth imprinted on her collarbone.

"Why did you like so persistently about your name, Mika?" he asked softly.

Mika looked down at her hands and shifted a little, some emotion Castiel couldn't identify flitting across her face. She brought her knees up and wrapped her arms around thm, huddling into herself like a child.

"Why does it matter?" she said, voice quiet and strained.

"Because your name is beautiful," he answered.

Mika smiled softly to herself, a small thing just twitching at the corners of her lips.

"I thought so too," she whispered.

"Is there...is something wrong with your name?"

Mika shook her head sadly, still not looking at him.

"You know, you're very beautiful, Mika," Castiel said earnestly.

That seemed to get a reaction. Her head snapped up, eyes hard and blazing right into his.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked angrily. "Can't you just, I don't know, fuck me?"

Castiel flinched inwardly at her harsh tone. Why was she so against him getting to know her?

"I can't ask you questions about yourself?"

"No," she said firmly.

They stared at each other intensely for what felt like hours, until she lowered her head back down to her knees and began to softly rock herself back and forth.

"Please," she pleaded, barely a whisper, "I just need you to fuck me. Please."

Castiel was baffled. In his nearly infinite years of observing humans, he hadn't seen anything like this. Then again, she wasn't _really_ human.

And while Castiel may have wanted to touch her more, feel her moving underneath and around him, he couldn't bring himself to do anything. She just seemed so...lost.

"I can't, Mika," he said gently.

"Why not?"

"You don't seem like you really...want it."

She peeked up at him from her knees. "So? I need it," she said, like it made all the sense in the world.

***

"Dean, I'm sure everything is fine," Sam said for what felt like the thousandth time.

"Then why hasn't Cas answered his phone?"

"Maybe he's doing something."

"He doesn't do anything!" Dean whirled on his brother with an angry look. "What if Mika hurt him?"

"She _didn't_ , Dean," Sam said vehemently. "We'll be back in a few days. But if we don't hear from him by tomorrow night, we can go back, alright? It's only five hours away."

"Fine," Dean snapped. "Just fuckin' _fine_."

***

So, who gave a shit if Castiel felt sparks when they touched too. He was being weird and cagey and fuck, she just _needed_ so badly. The tequila still burning through her veins wasn't helping, either.

"Mika, I don't want to do this if you don't truly want it."

"I do, I just..." she faltered, not really knowing how to explain.

All she knew what she couldn't go very long without sex; a little over a week without and she'd fall into a familiar, painful pattern. An all consuming weakness would ease into her bones, first. Then, she'd start to get physically sick; fever, vomiting, the works. She'd never survived that more than two days of the physical symptoms before giving in, and it was hard to find someone when she was sick. So she'd settled for fucks within the first day she felt the bone deep weariness start, and she'd be fine. Really. It's just that she couldn't stand most people, she'd never kept a guy for more than a month or two, and the random hookups were starting to wear on her.

And now, the only available guy (was he even a guy?) was fucking holding out on her. It was, frankly, ridiculous. She knew what she looked like. She just needed him to get over himself and fuck her.

"Please," Mika pleaded again, well aware of how pitiful she sounded. But at this point, she wasn't above begging.

Castiel just looked at her with soft eyes that seemed to say, _I wish I could help you, but I can't, sorry_.

"No, Mika," he said, then glanced at the pile of his clothes at the foot of the bed.

"No," she whispered to her knees, and hugged herself around them harder.

"I should get dressed. Why don't you sleep, and we can talk in the morning."

Mika shook her head and resolutely didn't look up at him when she felt him get off the bed. Or when she heard the soft sounds of him getting dressed. Or when she heard his footsteps, the door closing, and the soft flutter of wings outside her door.

Mika threw herself down on the bed and curled in on herself. There was no way Castiel was going to let her leave the bunker, and she had about two days before the fever started.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Fucking angels.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have tinkered with this chapter so much I think I have it memorized


	14. Thiefs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> awkward

It was around 2 AM by the time Castiel dared to look at his phone. Six missed calls from Sam, eleven from Dean.

Well, that wasn't great.

He reluctantly tapped on his phone until he heard ringing in his ear.

"Cas! What the fuck man, we called you like fifteen times."

"Hello, Dean."

"Yeah yeah, hey. Is everything okay? That bitch didn't hurt you, did she?"

"No, Mika did not hurt me."

"Then what the hell have you been doing?"

"Just...talking to her, I guess."

***

_His hands were like fire against her body, feeling and groping and invading. But his mouth was sweet and soft._

_"Just do it already," she said, pressing her hips up into his._

_"So romantic," he said._

_He kissed her once more, harder this time, before sliding into her._

_And she had never felt this before, like a puzzle piece she didn't know was missing has slid into place. With power thrumming under her skin, waiting for...something, so it can burst forth and thrive._

_He grunted above her; he'd been jerkily thrusting into her while she was lost in this new powerful feeling. She leaned up to kiss at his jaw, only for him to shake his head._

_"You're breaking my concentration," he said._

_Mika frowned up at him, but still settled back down._

_It didn't even feel that good, his sloppy, halting strokes in and out of her. But he must have thought it did, because it had only been about two minutes and he was already groaning and pressing his face into her throat and shaking a little._

_She rolled her eyes, and he pulled out, smiled and said, "That was good, right?"_

_Yes, she realized. The power she had felt just beneath her skin was now vibrating through her. She could do anything, everything, nothing--all thanks to this boy whose name she won't remember in a few years._

_"It was great," she said, and extricated herself from his tangled limbs._

***

Mika shot up with a gasp.

Her room was dark, but it was always dark in the bunker. She fumbled for the clock.

5:27 AM, it glared at her, the little red numbers mocking.

She was getting really sick of these dreams. Flashbacks, whatever. She should have never told them her real name, any of them.

She just wanted to go back to being Kelly, fucking whoever she wanted to rid herself of the weakness. But now she was trapped in a bunker, and the only available guy had turned her down.

No one had ever done that before. Mika knew her look wasn't appealing to everyone--too skinny, too tall, hair too long--but for some reason, she could bed anyone she wanted. She wasn't even that charming, either. It was like a skill, or maybe some pheromonal thing that dragged people into her. But not Castiel, apparently.

Castiel with his stupid blue eyes and stupid messy hair and stupid fingers like electricity--

Castiel. Fuck.

***

Castiel was sitting at the kitchen table with a cup of coffee he had no intention of drinking, contemplating his recent life decisions. Namely, turning down a beautiful girl's pleas for sex in favor of thinking about her all night.

And how stupid was that, really. Castiel hadn't had sex since April, and to be honest, he quite enjoyed it. Well, not the whole stabbing part. No one had really appealed to him since then, which made sense, considering he was an angel. But then, Mika.

Mika and her unbelievably gold, unnecessarily long hair, her voice like a song and her technicolor eyes. Her pale skin that had glowed so much last night, had glowed under a soft sheen of sweat that Castiel himself had put there. Her soft skin, like silk and velvet and clouds, pressing up against him when he held her close.

In the morning light, he was having a hard time remembering why he'd said no.

"Mmm," Mika grunted at him, stumbling blearily into the kitchen.

Castiel stared at her. She was up much earlier than usual, and judging by her wet hair she had been up long enough to shower. To be honest, he was pretty sure he needed a few more hours to sort out his feelings. Hours which she was currently interrupting.

"Good morning," he greeted. "Did you sleep well?"

"Not as well as I could have," she muttered, slamming around the kitchen before pulling a bowl from the cabinet.

"Yes," Castiel said, unsure of what else to say. Sorry?

"Where are the spoons?"

"In the--yes, there."

Mika hummed a thanks and shook some Lucky Charms into the bowl.

"Mika, I'd like to--"

"I need to eat before I have this conversation," she interrupted, grabbing milk from the fridge.

"Would you like me to leave you alone while you do?"

Mika stopped pouring the milk and turned to look him in the eye. "Don't be stupid," she said, and capped the milk maybe a little harder than necessary.

Castiel watched her move fluidly through the kitchen; putting the milk back in the fridge, grabbing a few napkins and sitting down across from him, gently placing the bowl on the table so as not to spill it.

She only got a few spoonfuls in her mouth before she started talking.

"You know, what is with you?" Mika said, gesturing with her spoon. "Do angels not have sex? What?"

"No, we uh--some of us, um, do--"

"Not you?"

"I, well yes, once."

Mika stared at him expectantly, picking carefully through her cereal to avoid the marshmallows.

"When I was human," Castiel explained.

"How did that happen?" she asked.

"My...Grace. It's what angels are made of. It was stolen, and I became human."

"I thought you were an angel."

"I am, I got my Grace back and it restored me to my former, and current, self."

"Huh," she said, still artfully dodging the marshmallows in her cereal.

Castiel watched her maneuver around her cereal for a few minutes before he blurted out, "If you don't like them, why don't you just eat something else?"

"Excuse me?"

"Your cereal. The marshmallows."

"Oh," she said, and swallowed down another marshmallow-free bite. "I eat them last."

"Why?"

"Oh you know, save the best for last and all that."

Castiel nodded like her understood, and watched until her bowl was full of marshmallows and milk.

"Wanna try?" Mika asked brightly.

"I don't require sustenance."

"Just because you don't _require_ it, doesn't mean you can't have it," she said, exasperated.

"Food tastes odd to me," he explained, a note of finality in his voice to suggest he no longer wanted to discuss this.

Mika did not care.

"What do you mean?" she asked, plowing ahead.

"The taste of food is simultaneously underwhelming and overwhelming."

"But last night you had lime juice, salt, and alcohol. Couldn't you taste that?"

"Not the same way you taste things."

Mika made a soft noise and returned to her bowl of cereal.

"About last night," Castiel ventured, warily eyeing Mika.

"Mhm."

"I'm...sorry."

"Okay," she said easily.

"Okay?"

"Yes, okay. It's okay if you aren't attracted to me--"

"I didn't say that, exactly."

"So you _are_ attracted to me?"

"We did, uh...kiss, last night, if you recall."

Mika snorted. "Just because you make out with someone doesn't mean you're attracted to them," she said derisively, grabbing her empty bowl and moving to get up.

"Wait, Mika--"

"Castiel, it's fine. I'd like to go back to my room now, if that's alright."

"Why wouldn't it be?"

She shrugged and rinsed out her bowl in the sink. "This isn't really my place," she said softly, heartbreakingly.

Castiel smiled at her a little and watched her leave, not sure anything he said could have stopped her.

Well, that certainly could have gone better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, so I approached this chapter from about five different angles, and I'm still not really happy with it but if I just couldn't toy with it anymore
> 
> And I know not much happened, but I needed something before the boys got home, leaping into that didn't make sense when I tried it
> 
> Anywayyyyy, I hope you enjoyed it!


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